Cocaine and Handguns
by StoriUrahara
Summary: Sebastian Michaelis has been a cocaine dealer for years, making enough here and there to feed himself and support his own habit. But due to the recent laws against cocaine from the Queen, the white drug is on high demand. Rated T for violence, drug use/drug dealing, and cursing. AU.


**Full summary (due to size restrictions);**  
**Sebastian Michaelis has been a cocaine dealer for years, making enough here and there to feed himself and support his own habit. But due to the recent laws against cocaine from the Queen, the white drug is on high demand. Sebastian is more than happy to cater to his eager customers, and starts making a hefty sum of money. But Sebastian's success won't linger very long, for there is a knew dealer on the scene who is interested in the dealing business. Nicknamed the "White Lady" for her low-priced, high-quality cocaine, Angela Blanc quickly becomes Sebastian's number one rival, and thus, his next target.**

**Disclaimer; I do not own Black Butler, nor do I seek any profit from publishing this work of fanfiction.**

**-x-**

The moon was at its zenith, the white crescent hanging above the darkened streets of London like a broken searchlight. It watched as a man in a long, flowing trench coat and a newsboy hat pulled low over his eyes ducked into a dark alley, thus passing out of its light.

"So here you are again, my friend," called a deep voice from the shadows. "Are you here to meet the Lady in White?"

"Aren't I always," the other man sighed as he fished into his pockets, his words not a question. "No matter the promises I make to myself, I always come back to her." Withdrawing a roll of bills from his deep coat pocket, he handed it to the dealer.

"One-hundred pounds, which includes what you couldn't pay last week," the man confirmed as he leafed through the tender. "Good, your appointment has been processed. You may now meet the Lady." The ritual was no surprise to the man as he took the small cloth sack from between his dealer's fingers; every time he came to purchase his weekly fix, it was the always the same. Both men walked in opposite directions without any parting comment, as it always was, and went on their separate paths; the dealer to his den and the addict to his wife and children.

-x-

"We've made another two-thousand pounds this week, my lady," the den master grinned widely as he proudly held up the bag of various deviations of currency for his employer to see. "The dogs of London are biting more than ever, especially with our low prices." Angela Blanc gave a small smile and capped her lipstick, checking her reflection in the looking glass before turning to face the acting secretary.

"Excellent," the white-haired woman purred, absently running her fingers through her short-cropped hair. "I knew those tortured souls couldn't resist my product."

"Lady Blanc!" The woman in question looked around the den master to regard the man running towards her, red-faced and breathing heavily.

"Eduard got jumped on a deal and was wounded pretty bad!" The man paused only for a deep breath of stale air. "He's in Hospital now, but we can't find his attackers!"

"Well now, that's an issue," Angela mused, her purple eyes narrowing. "Contact the Italian mafia; they'll do anything for a price. Those pests need to know that their Lady is not pleased, and that she does not condone theft of her virtue." The man nodded, his burning lungs not allowing any further speech. Angela seemed to just notice his fatigue, and waved her hand at him.

"Step outside, good man; you'll hardly get any healthy air in this dank place." The man nodded gratefully and made his retreat to the stars and debatably clean air of the London wharves.

"Those brats are getting cheeky," the acting secretary huffed angrily. "That makes four times since we first started dealing."

"Patience, Williem, patience." Angela fixed the cuffs of her dress as she turned back to her looking glass. "It takes time to establish a strong presence in the underworld." Pleased with her appearance, Angela turned her attention to her setting; a slouching warehouse ceiling and dull cement walls, with a few storage crates forming inner walls of sorts and scattered lamps suspended from the ceiling by rusted chains. The air was dank and stale; smelling of faint body odor and fish that was left too long in the heat of Summer.

"Soon," she sighed, a reassurance to herself.

-x-

"Mister Michaelis," called a voice, breaking the raven-haired man from his thoughts. "Excuse me, but there is someone here to see you." The brooding man nodded and motioned for his company to be let inside his office. As the three men walked in, he noted their hefty size and exchanged a wordless agreement with his bodyguard.

"Hello, good sirs, and welcome!" The man smiled broadly as he extended his arms. "I am Sebastian Michaelis, and this is my humble headquarters. Have you come to make a deal?"

"We come with your competitor's product," the first man deadpanned, getting straight to the point. "We want to know if yours is any good against it." Sebastian's eyes narrowed to thin slits, and his cheerful grin disappeared.

"Well now, I don't get that answer every day," Sebastian remarked, his tone dangerous. "Care to reveal why you dared to step foot in my den with no intention of buying?"

"Ah, forgive my partner, sir," the second man stepped forward before the first man could make a rebuke. "We mean no disrespect; we simply want to test both products to see whom we should buy from. We'll gladly pay for a sample of your product." His ego rubbed by the man's politeness, but his anger not yet dispelled, Sebastian smiled warmly.

"You shall have a small bag of our finest," he grinned generously. "On the house, of course." Nodding to his bodyguard, Sebastian watched as the man led the three back through the door. There was the explosive sound of a pistol being discharged three times, then silence.

"I'm sorry, friends," Sebastian quipped, not a hint of remorse in his voice. "But I do not cater to those who wish to compare my product to anyone else's. Those who are simple enough to believe that I would personally condone such an act must be punished." Launching into a short bout of laughter, Sebastian leaned forward and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on his cluttered desk.

"I am the king of the underworld," he smirked to himself, "and none shall dethrone me!"

**-x-**

**So there's the prologue, everyone :) the first chapter could take quite some time, but I hope you all enjoyed this so far!**


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